To be brutally honest, this blog has come about through peer pressure. I feel flattered that my friends have insisted I blog, after crying with laughter at my Facebook posts. I am assuming the requests to blog on the human condition have come about because my friends would find it easier to laugh at my life if my comments on it were packaged neatly in one place. Then others would also be able to share the traumas of my life unfettered with multiple happy posts about kittens and photos of someone’s supper*. So, “here” (or at least the Home page) is where it’s at, laugh or cry. In the interests of not being sued by someone who’s feeling a tad overemotional, this site should probably come with the following disclaimers……
It won’t always be polite and it will be as god fearing as Richard Dawkins and Stephen Fry combined. Google them if you’re from outer space (or America) and are not familiar with these fabulous atheists.
I am apolitical. Yes I realise women burnt their bras etc etc to enable me to refuse to vote, but I just can’t discriminate enough between politicians or their parties to care enough. Under hypnosis I couldn’t tell you one policy any party has. Oh, except the prats in the independence party who seem to be against quite a lot of stuff that would be good for us, like tolerance and inclusion. I like diversity on this planet. I like the fact that in South America there are loads of neon bright spotted frogs that, individually, contain enough poison to kill 20 humans. That’s amazing. How do we celebrate this and yet get our knickers in a twist at any person who was not born 100% healthy, heterosexual, white and male? Very disheartening.
Comments on my remarkably banal life are just that, my opinion, unfiltered. To ape the words of a very talented former colleague, I am probably just saying out loud the things others have the sense to keep quiet. My life, generally, is filled with three bright, amazing, children and a fabulously talented husband in the leafy village environs of one of the UK’s most beautiful cities. That, however, is frankly nauseous. Something you should read in some lofty newspaper, you know, big sheets of paper, like old people read with slippers on, and trays on their laps with cushions underneath, whilst eating a Werther’s original toffee (other toffees are available). I solemnly swear to blog only when life gets a little more complicated………….
For example, I am currently “between jobs” as they politely say. Applying for and receiving Job Seekers Allowance is a feature of many of my posts. Two of my three children receive disability living allowance for a combined mixture of congenital cataracts, congenital CMV infection and ADHD. My eldest child has a massive, MASSIVE tantrum if she doesn’t have enough maths to do during the school holidays. As a woman “of a certain age” (44) there is an equation, yet to be mathematically derived, relating the declining function of previously pert parts of my anatomy to resist gravity. I can’t be arsed to do the math, it will only depress me. I have a PhD and an MBA but can NEVER get an HP printer to print something successfully the first time. I am nearly six foot tall and female. I know, I need oxygen up here right? Yep, my dad stretched me every day when I was younger and put my feet in compost. The list of witty quips is endless, but I have to cut you short (oh, it’s OK, I see you are already….), I have something to lift down from a top shelf somewhere whilst getting out of the way of the poor sod trying to watch something whilst standing behind me.
I wanted to call this blog thehumancondition.wordpress.com or dontknowwhattosay.wordpress.com but these already exist, with extensive blogs on them in tiny white text on very BLACK pages bemoaning failed relationships or the need to get a tattoo to express their acceptance of themselves. Both pages have not been updated for years which is frustrating for me, seeking their web addresses but perhaps a blessing for everyone not into emo. So, janetfernihough it is, honest and from the heart.
*I can’t promise not to include photos of my (distinctly non-vegetarian) supper occasionally, I spent three sodding hours in the kitchen making sushi recently. It was consumed in approximately three minutes. That level of commitment requires tangible evidence.